


The Cost of Servitude

by jinnizzle



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Feels, IgNoct, M/M, Sex, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 04:57:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9368936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinnizzle/pseuds/jinnizzle
Summary: Noctis shuts himself away as he struggles to deal with the aftermath of Altissia.





	

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a long time since I wrote fanfiction. Uh... hi guys? :'D
> 
> Oh yeah: Spoilers for FFXV.

The rythmic rocking of the train did little to distract him. Noctis pulled the cardboard-thin pillow over his head as he curled up into a ball atop the narrow cot of his sleeper carriage, knees almost brushing his chin. The whir of the wheels mocked him. The grind of the tracks resonated with the clenching of his chest, with the hardening mass in his gut, which contracted painfully whenever his mind wandered beyond the drone of the engine and the stench of grease, oil and steel. It had been weeks and nothing had changed. He just wanted to disappear.

Luna was gone. The fact became no less easy to swallow with each attempt to roll the words around his tongue. His friend. His betrothed. Gone. He wanted to grieve her—avenge her—but he could not even summon the strength to cry let alone race from the train and hunt down Ardyn and every last Imperial abomination that crossed his path. So here he lay, bundled and alone. He loved Luna—had loved her—perhaps not in the way a husband was expected but he loved her all the same. As a person, if not a woman. She had been everything he was not but all that he should have been: composed, resolute, willing. She did more in her passing than he would ever achieve in life. All Prince Noctis did was fail.

A tap came to his door. Silence proceeded a metallic groan and the waft of over-powering after-shave—Prompto.

Noctis remained unmoving, concealed and safe beneath the pillow-dome over his head. Through the tangy cologne he caught wiff of a soup that soon mingled with the pungent stink of machinery. His stomach turned.

'They served dinner a little while ago,' Prompto said. The chipper beat of his friend's voice had dulled to embers. 'It's not every good, but I thought you might be hungry. Ignis said—'

'Go away, Prompto.'

'But Noct—'

'Go away!'

Noctis flung the pillow at the door, unsure if it connected with anything and too afraid to turn and look. There was a rough chink followed by the grinding of the door as his friend retreated. The words stung, he knew, and he would appologise to Prompto later but right now he just couldn't hear that name. Gladiolus's harsh rebuke had hauled the guilt to the surface and it gnawed at his gut like a half-starved beast. With Luna already on his mind the closer they drew to Tenebrae, the last thing he needed was to be confronted with that. His brilliant, beautiful, talented partner ruined all because some sick twist of fate chose him to serve the heir apparent, the so-called Chosen King of Lucis—the Prince of Disappointment. He had never deserved all that he had given him—the love, the affection, the unwavering support—and now that he feared it gone he didn't have the courage to look him in the face and tell him he was sorry. That was what hurt the most.

It had always been Ignis. He had known it long before he'd admitted it to himself—to themselves. The bond they shared had grown rapidly, incompromisable and unstoppable, even as they fought hard to deny it, to adhere to their responsiblities. They had lost. Luna had known. She had died knowing it. Noctis's heart tore all over again. Promised to the King only to reign in the shadow of his advisor—another cruel prank of Fate's. Guilt continued its savage assault on his gut. How much pain had he inflicted on her without ever meaning to? How much suffereing had he brought down upon Gladio? Upon Prompto? Upon Ignis?

Noctis squeezed his eyes so tightly shut his blackened world sparkled with phantom white stars. He squeezed his arms tight around his knees and prayed the ground would open up and swallow him.

At some point, he slept. He couldn't recall drifting off but he did infact wake, his eyes puffed and red-shot. His neck ached from the lack of pillow and he reached to retrieve his disgarded bedding from the floor. Night had fallen—almost 11pm by the reckoning of his phone. Noctis ignited the oil-lamp on the bench, taking momentary comfort in the warm glow that fought back the darkness. As he expected, Prompto had left the tray of food. A glassy skin had formed over the now cold soup; a fly tip-toed across a flaky breadroll. If it had looked appetising before, it certainly didn't any longer.

Noctis kicked off his boots and slithered down under the threadbare blanket. The sheets were stained and yellowing—repellant under normal circumstances but not in the least concerning to him now. He didn't expect to sleep again. He couldn't even remember the last time he slept through the night. All he could do was stare at the wall and slowly suffocate under the guilt and shame over all he had done and all he couldn't do. He'd rather face a hoard of daemons than spend the dark hours alone with his thoughts again.

The door protested to its disturbance again with a low rumble. Noctis didn't respond in hope of tricking his diligent friend into believing him asleep.

'You really should eat something.'

Noctis sat bolt-upright.

Ignis lingered in the open doorway, leaning on his cane, his sightless eyes hidden behind his newly darkened glasses. Noctis's teeth went spearing into his lower lip. His gaze ricocheted off the older man like opposing magnetic poles. The door screeched close as Ignis entered. The slide of his cane across the steel floor was punctuated by hesitant footsteps. Noctis swore he heard his heart splinter as Ignis stumbled over his discarded boots on his way to the bed. His hand outstretched on instinct and made to steady the older man but found he could do nothing, too afraid to touch him lest he break him more. He covered his mouth to choke down the sob rising in his throat like a hot, heavy bile. Noctis drew his knees to his chest and retreated to the farthest corner of the cot. Ignis eased himself down beside him. He folded his cane with surprising deftness and set it across his lap. His right hand rested casually between them. Noctis wanted to reach out and take it as he had so many times before. He turned away. The steadfast dam behind his eyes burst. Tears flowed forth without restraint. He attempted to mask his sobs with a forced cough.

'Noctis. Noct … Don't hide your tears from me. It isn't necessary.' Ignis's hand swept across the crumpled bedspread, seeking Noctis through the darkness. The young prince's voice caught in a whimper and he lashed out to grab his lover's hand, squeezing it so tight he felt the bones grind together under his desperate grip. He cried louder, practically wailed, and buried his tear-soaked face in the crook of his elbow resting atop his bent knees. Noctis loathed to appear vulnerable, even in front of the one person before whom he reliquished his walls. Ignis scooted closer.

'Noct, look at me. Look at me. I know you aren't.'

'I … can't …' Noctis choked. From the corner of his tear-filmed eyes he caught a flash of that subtle amused grin Ignis pulled whenever he did something endearingly foolish that the older man couldn't comprehend. He reached out to Noctis, his hand pawing blindly in the air until the prince helped it find his cheek. Ignis's smile warmed. His thumb wiped away Noctis's tears in a slow, gentle caress. His long fingers tickled with the hairline of the younger man's nape. With that, Noctis's guard shattered. He fell into him, his hands grabbing fistfulls of Ignis's cool silk shirt as he burrowed his face into the expanse of his chest. Strong arms encircled him. The safer he felt the further he crumbled, tears falling in chest-rattling sobs and hysterical wails.

'You must grieve the Lady Lunafreya. She was your fiance, Noct, there is no shame in your tears.' Ignis ran his fingers through Noctis's hair in tender, soothing strokes. 'Gladio was wrong to speak the way he did. This is the time for you to—'

'It's not just Luna.' Noctis's voice was small. He pulled away from Ignis's arms, looking at him in earnest for the first time since he awoke in Altissia. He took in the scars on his face, across his nose, around his beautiful emerald eyes, which now remained forever closed. He raised his hand to the older man's face and brushed over the cuts on his lips. Ignis recoiled at the sudden movement, reacting unconsciously to the shock of the unanticipated touch. The beast gnawed at Noctis's chest; tears welled thickly in his eyes.

'I'm so sorry, Ignis,' he bawled. 'It's my fault, it's all my fault …'

Ignis's hands found Noctis's and squeezed them tight. 'Noct, listen. I don't hold you accountable for this, not even in the slightest.'

'But it happened protecting me. Protecting Luna. All this happened because of me!'

'That is what I do, Noct. I protect you. That is what I will always do.'

'I never asked you to!' Noctis wailed now, unabashed and uncontained.

'No. You didn't, your father did. He entrusted your safety to me and I will see that duty through. But more than that'—fingers laced together—'you must know that it's because I want to. I have to.'

They remained like that for some time, Ignis massaging the back of Noctis's hand with his thumb while the prince cried into his chest. Noctis's tears gradually subsided until they lingered only in the form of an occasional sob, which he sniffed back.

'I can't live with that,' Noctis said now his voice was even. 'You'll never cook, read or drive again. Everything you love has been stolen from you.'

Another moment of silence.

'Not everything,' Ignis said at last.

A second bout of tears took hold. Noctis pawed shamefully at his face, at his running nose, knowing full-well the gesture was futile. 'Gods, this is why I don't cry—I can't freakin' stop!' He muttered irately, crying harder at his frustration. 'I'm glad you can't see me! I'm a damn mess. Seriously. Shit.'

'I have seen your face almost every day for the last seventeen years, Noct. I'm not like to forget what it looks like. I still see you. And you're beautiful.'

Noctis groaned. 'See? How do you do that? How do you always know what to say?'

'It's also what I do.' Ignis smiled and fluttered two fingers to beckon Noctis closer. Their lips found each other. Neither moved for a moment until Noctis parted to draw breath and Ignis invited himself in. Their tongues rolled together in languid but forceful undulations. Noctis moaned at the passion; most of their recent trysts had been secret, hurried rendezvous in the bushes or behind caravans he'd almost forgotten the sensuality of lovemaking. He was already hard.

Noctis's hands slid down Ignis's neck and under the collar of his shirt. His skin was flushed and heart pumping. He made to free his buttons, all the while their tongues locked in a dance, when Ignis abruptly stopped. He pushed lightly on the prince's chest.

'Wait. Noct, forgive me. Lady Lunafreya…'

'Ignis, please.' Noctis brushed his fingertips across the older man's cheek, across his lips. 'I … just want to forget. It's… it's been weeks. I can't. Please. Just let me be happy for an hour.' Delicately, he pulled the glasses from Ignis's face and witnessed the injuries in earnest. 'I need to know you still love me.'

'As if I could ever stop.'

Their lips reconnected with added fire. Noctis lowered himself backwards on the mattress, guiding Ignis down on top of him. Ignis's hands found their way beneath the prince's shirt, removing it up over his head with practiced ease. Nocits gasped as fingers brushed over his nipples, down his over-sensitive flank and onto the rise of his hip bone where Ignis hooked his fingers to remove his pants. The older man sat back on his heels and slipped buttons from holes on his own shirt as he admired the naked prince beneath him with the touch of his hands. Fingertips danced over Noctis's skin, making him tremble and tingle in ways he didn't remember. Ignis explored every inch of skin his hands could find, mapping new pathways and forging new memories of where to touch, caress or fondle. When he arrived at Noctis's inner thighs, he parted them with the slightest of pressure. He lowered himself between them. The stiffness of their members brushed together and another breathy moan escaped.

'I know that sound,' Ignis whispered, his breath hot against the delicate flesh of Noctis's neck. His lips curved into a smile against the skin. Noctis squirmed and contorted at the teasing pleasure of his touch, hands grabbing fistfulls of his blond hair. With one hand supporting Ignis up off the bed, the other worked down lower, stroking him, rubbing him, preparing him. Noctis ground against the older man's rigid body, his head lolling back in ecstacy

'Ignis,' Noctis breathed. Ignis slipped inside him, slow and even. The prince's eyes squeezed shut, his toes curled, his long-held breath raggedly exhaled. Ignis hoisted a knee up over his shoulder, driving deeper in a long, careful thrust. Noctis's breaths came in pants with every buck, his back sliding up the mattress, his skin growing slick with sweat at each exertion. He clung to Ignis in a way he never had, hard and desperate, face pressed into the bend where his neck met his shoulder. Fingernails bit crescents into his flesh. Kisses grew wetter, messier, as form gave way to carnal lust. Ignis groped at Noctis's hair for traction, his thrusts growing and more frequent. The prince stuffed his fist into his mouth as he teetered on the edge. He bit down to muffle his screams as he came. Ignis was as contained as always; nothing but a low, throaty groan betrayed his climax. He lingered inside him. One last lazy kiss.

Ignis pulled out and rolled aside, huffing and spent. Noctis chased his breath, he too rendered immobile.

'Tissues?'

'Uh…' Noctis looked around, finding no amenities but a stiff-bristled toothbrush in a cup by the chipped mirror over the bench. There weren't even any napkins on the tray Prompto brought. Noctis pulled the top sheet from the bed and tidied up before discarding it in a bundle in the corner.

'Please tell me you didn't just do what I think you just did?' Ignis frowned.

'Of course not.'

'Noctis.'

'Don't worry about it. Our parting fuck-you to Niflheim.'

Noctis returned to the bed and curled up beside Ignis, chilly now without the blankets to cover himself. He absently fiddled with the pendant on the older man's necklace, which he had given him for his birthday two years ago.

'How are you feeling?'

The prince grunted dismissively.

'You seem more like your charming self, so that's something.'

'You don't.' Noctis saddened. Something had changed in the older man since the accident, something subtle but significant. The anxious flutter returned to his stomach. 'Are you going to tell me what happened in Altissia?'

'No.' The tone was decisive.

'Ignis.'

'You gain nothing by knowing, Noct. And I don't wish to speak of it.'

'Sorry,' he muttered, burnt by the brisque words. Noctis thought some more, still toying with the pendant. 'Will your eyesight return?'

'Unlikely.'

Noctis's fingers froze. Ignis quickly continued, 'but who can say for certain? Don't think about it, please.' He craned his head to kiss Noctis's temple, or as close to it as he could find. They lay entwined with Ignis's fingers carressing the prince's arm as he dozed, nuzzled into his chest.

'What time is it?' Ignis asked.

Noctis grumbled, still in the groggy grip of sleep. He pattered around for his phone, which had fallen to the floor. His eyes squinted at the illuminated screen.

'Three forty-seven,' the young man mumbled drowsily.

'I need to return to my room before the others wake.'

'Later.' Noctis swung a possessive arm across Ignis's chest. 'Sleep.' He was calmer now Ignis was here; solemn, but at peace. The angry, whirling cloud of remorse and grief no longer consumed him as it once did. The path forward was a little bit clearer.

'Noct.'

'Hn?'

'Will you send me back to Cape Caem? With Iris and the others?'

'Huh?' Noctis sat up abruptly. He stared down at Ignis, his mouth an incredulous gape. The older man's face was pensive.

'Why would you say that?'

Ignis propped himself up on his elbows. 'Well, my ability to protect you has been somewhat compromised.'

'I don't care! No! I need you here!' Gladiolus's words rang in his ears. Try thinking about somebody else for a change. Noctis paused. He fidgetted with the pendant again and in a small voice added, 'Is that what you want?'

'I would never willingly separate from you,' Ignis said. 'But I don't want to become your burden, either.'

'You won't.' Noctis gently placed his hands eitherside of the older man's face. 'You could never be.' He kissed him, deeply and passionately enough for his body to react. In a frustrated moan, Ignis eased off.

'Come on, I have to go back.' Ignis entangled himself from the younger man's embrace and swung his legs over the side of the cot. 'Pass me my clothes.'

Pouting, Noctis collected up the strewn garments from the floor. He handed Ignis his trousers and shirt. The blind man frowned.

'Underwear first, Noct.'

'Oh. Right.'

He helped Ignis into his clothes, zipped his zippers, buttoned his buttons, smoothed the creases from his shirt and set his collar, just as he always liked. Finally, he slipped his glasses on his face and placed his folded cane in his waiting hands.

'There. All proper, I promise,' Noctis said, standing close to maintain the intimacy. The other man's hand rose and found the prince's face. Noctis let his lips curl into a smile beneath his fingertips.

'Much better.'

Ignis unfolded his cane and made for the doorway, Noctis trailing behind him with his hand pressed to the small of his back in case he should fall or the train make an abrupt stop.

'Two doors down, to the right,' Ignis instructed. '227. Key's in my pocket.'

Noctis slipped his hand into the back pocket of Ignis's trousers.

'My shirt pocket, Noct.'

'Who keeps stuff in their shirt pockets, seriously.' The prince grumbled as he searched out the key. The door opened with the same groaning complaint as Noctis's own cabin. He entered first to turn on the lamp then extingushed it sheepishly. 'Can you, uh, get into bed?'

'I'm sure I will manage,' Ignis said as he hobbled into the room. He wanted for Noctis inside the doorway. 'Well, then.'

Noctis rose to his tiptoes and threw his arms about Ignis's neck. He held the embrace for some time, breathing in the moment, the scent of his skin. It wasn't quite like he remembered—no trace nutmeg, cinnamon or ginger. Noctis squeezed just a little bit tighter when the older man made to let go. When he lowered himself back down, Ignis brushed his fringe from his eyes and placed a tender kiss on his forehead.

'Good night, Your Highness,' he said.

'Night.'

The heavy door rattled shut and the lock clicked into place. Noctis just stood there, barefoot and sullen, staring at the steel panel. He was about to knock, unprepared to spend the night alone—it would all come back, the fear, the guilt, the pain—when the clunk of a bolt shot open and the neighbouring door widened.

Gladiolus stood in the entranceway, barechested and grim. His eyes washed over Noctis as he stood there, first poised to tap on Ignis's door. He clicked his tongue in disappointment.

'Can't get to sleep so you plan on ruining his?' The larger man spat. 'It really is all about you isn't it?'

Noctis lowered his hand, narrowing his eyes at Gladiolus as he pattered back to his room alone.


End file.
